


The Kitty Contingency

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cat Cafés, Cats, Fluff, No Samaritan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: Life happens so quickly. In the blink of an eye, everything can change, and nothing will ever be the same.Which is to say, Harold bought a cat café.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 19





	The Kitty Contingency

It’s strange. Life happens so quickly. In the blink of an eye or at the drop of a hat, everything can change. Life happens, and suddenly things will never be the same.

“I’m sorry, you did _what_?”

Harold buried his face in his hands. “I bought a cat café.”

John couldn’t contain a grin. “Let me get this straight,” he said, chuckling to himself, “Our last number couldn’t stick around to keep the café open, so you bought it from her?” Harold shut his eyes and nodded. “Did you have a change of heart about what we do here?”

Pacing to his desk, Harold answered, “Miss Debrosky had to leave New York. I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of all those cats going to a shelter. There’s too many of them, they never would have found a home for all of them.”

“So you decided to adopt all of them instead?”

Harold groaned, flopping into his chair. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I suppose that’s exactly what I did. Oh dear…”

John walked over to pat Harold on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Harold. You’re a mysteriously wealthy genius. You’ll figure it out.”

~

Harold did figure it out, eventually. The café was already fully staffed. All Harold had to do was promote someone to shift manager to take Miss Debrosky’s place, and hire another server. But even with the café running on its own (with the help of Harold’s generous funding), Harold found himself visiting Pretty Paws Pastries frequently.

John tracked Harold down at the café one day, manning the register of all things. The café wasn’t busy- in fact, it was noticeably empty, with only a couple of customers sitting at corner booths.

John tilted his head as he approached the counter and stroked the calico perched by the tip jar. “I’d ask how your day off was going,” John mused, “But it looks like you’re on the clock anyway.”

Harold looked up, smiling at John and his calico friend. “One of the workers called in sick. I thought, since we weren’t busy, I’d offer my services.”  
John looked around, taking in the café’s interior. It was bright inside, with sunlight filtering through flowery lilac curtains. There were shelves and perches on every wall for cats to sit or sleep on. There were a few lounging on the gingham pillows, paws hanging over the edges. The rest were curled up on cushions next to the customers, or under the tables. One orange tabby was sitting in the window watching New Yorkers pass by.

“There are worse places to spend a sunny Tuesday afternoon,” John observed.

“And Picasso here makes for good company,” Harold added, reaching out to pet the calico on the counter.

John smiled, scratching it under the chin. “See you later, Picasso,” he said, before leaving Harold to his work.

~

Over time, everyone came into Pretty Paws Pastries at one point or another. Even Fusco and Carter had visited at least once, looking for Harold, or a place to speak privately. Root and Shaw spent the most time at Pretty Paws, right after Harold, who started working at the café more frequently. John stopped by every so often, and had slowly started to introduce Bear to the café’s cats. But Root and Shaw were the only ones to sit and spend time with cats like Picasso and the others. Shaw was sitting with a chubby Persian in her lap, and Root had coaxed a red Abyssinian onto her shoulder with a treat. Harold watched them fondly as he poured their tea.

“Donut seems quite fond of you,” Harold said to Shaw, pointing to the purring Persian. Looking at Root, he added, “That one’s new, her name is Siobhan.”

Smirking with a sigh, Root replied, “No, it isn’t.” Scratching the Abyssinian behind the ears, she said, “Her name is Gracie. The Machine said she should be, anyway.” 

Harold swallowed the lump in his throat. He smiled at Root and said, “That’s a very pretty name.”

~

Eventually some of the cats had been adopted by the team’s members. Shaw had taken a liking to Donut and brought him home. Root left Gracie to keep Harold company and adopted a Bengal named Jumanji instead. John was fond of the cats, but only spent time with them at the café. His favorite was Akira, a grey Oriental shorthair that liked to sleep in his lap.

Bear had learned to get on with the café’s residents, after a couple of clawed encounters. Once he figured out that most of the cats weren’t interested in playing fetch or tug of war, Bear learned to sit quietly under John’s table and let the cats come to him. He’d become the favorite cuddle buddy of a Scottish Fold, Hamish. They would lay together and nap.

True to his word, Harold had adopted all of the café’s cats, to an extent. While the servers doubled as caretakers, Harold took a special interest in making sure the cats were fed and fulfilled. Mr. Whiskers, a Maine Coon, needed a special food diet due to the condition of his teeth. The store’s only Siamese, Tango, had abandonment issues, and needed some extra love and attention at the end of the day, after business hours. The twins, Rumble and Tumble, were part of the same litter of Ragdoll kittens and needed to be placed in the same cubby of the kitty treehouse. And a Russian Blue named Peabody liked to be sung to sleep. (Harold was glad no one was around to hear it, although Peabody seemed to enjoy his voice.)

Harold took special care of all of them, as well as the rest of the Pretty Paws residents. It warmed John’s heart to see the way Harold connected with each individual cat. It was a nice change of pace from Harold’s usual nervous energy in matters of life and death, and if he was being honest with himself, John wanted nothing more than for Harold to be comfortable, to look as peaceful as he did at Pretty Paws all the time. He began to wonder who would do the Machine’s bidding, if they didn’t. 

~

Once they found out about the Machine’s team based out of Washington D.C., Harold began to realize that maybe he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life saving the numbers. There were others, multiple others that were invested in helping people, just like him. If Logan, Joey, and Harper had found each other and teamed up, could Harold find more people to join Root and Shaw in their efforts?  
When he brought up the idea to John, John seemed visibly relieved. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask,” John said. Harold tilted his head, and John added, “I’ve seen how happy the café makes you. We all have. And we all think you deserve to be happy.”

Harold felt his eyes begin to well up. Wiping at them hurriedly, he replied, “I think I would like that very much.” 

They did eventually hire another team to work for the Machine. John smiled when Harold gave his “You need a purpose” speech to each of them, remembering when Harold had said it to him. It didn’t take long until there were four new operatives in New York, allowing Root and Shaw to start traveling and implementing the Machine’s code in new cities, and allowing John and Harold to retire.

John didn’t really retire- he kept his eye on the new team, and became a sort of liaison for the police, relaying information to and from Fusco and Carter as needed. But where John stayed on to facilitate the Machine’s work, Harold transitioned to operating Pretty Paws full time. He became the café’s primary caretaker, and took care of all cat-related needs. He adopted Gracie eventually, the Abyssinian the Machine had named for him, and carried on rotations for cats as they were adopted. 

It wasn’t quite the same, he thought, as saving the numbers provided by the Machine, but he felt happy doing good nonetheless. He still kept tabs on John and the new recruits- he couldn’t help it, how he worried. At the end of the day, though, Harold was content. 

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> My brain was being grimdark and spat out the first paragraph, so to fix it, I did a complete 180 and made it completely ridiculous, and thus the cat cafe was born. Thanks to everyone that helped with choosing cat breeds and naming them! This was a lot of fun. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
